Truth must be Found in Watching Squirrels Play

This day, bone chilling and raw

Could not wear on me any more

I stand sentinel in a field

A watchful eye on a horse so ill

My body insulated from the cold

My mind protected even more

As music and strangers’ noises

Distract me from my own inner voices

I am only slightly present

Semi aware of my chapped face

Hardly concerned by my numb feet

My brain working overtime, I listen

To our dying nation’s erratic heartbeat

Then something catches my eye

And penetrates the blathering

I stop and lower my headphones

Suddenly awake to everything

No longer burdened by my worry

For beast or even brother

I am left to see the world of gray

For what it’s supposed to be

A return to my senses

A return to living in the inbetween

Two critters chitter and chatter

As they play a reciprocal game of tag

Chasing each other to and fro

Along a row of dying Ash

My eyes follow the sound of freedom

To behold bodies the color of bark

Recognized by their wiggle waggle

Waving flags of happiness and heart

In that moment I am released

From circumstance out of my control

I am present in the sweet presence

Of purity and simple joy

And certain that truth must be found

In watching squirrels play

Real and honest, in the here and now

On a somber winter’s day.

Photo by Debashis Das from Pexels